Your Breath

Your Breath

So quiet.

(in so many ways)

Against my ear,                 warm, your lips, and after;

your chin between my neck and shoulder.

                We’d be maybe lying on our sides, your hands

holding mine at my breasts, our feet clasped, legs like chevrons

and I’d hope my shoulder blades aren’t too bony for your chest.


You’d be asleep, your breath even, soft.                                                             

                                                                                    (I’d smile, recalling its ragged tempo                    

                                                                                      only minutes before.)


I’d be awake, listening to you dream.


And maybe I’d whisper half-truths in Hindi,

                                                                   let the words settle in the blankets  

                                                                   around us to blend with the scent of our fucking.

                (मुझे यह पसंद है)

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